My horribly opaque, ugly self that spilled out, unraveling,
nobility, bearing rich, artificial flowers,
pursuing with ideals, so the pain, the anguish can be severed,
But that won’t do, won’t reach, won’t be able to touch the radiance, the idol with no shadow

Ah, to the extent that I go mad
Ah, downing, drowning

Why do I try to throw everything away for the sake of twistedly sinking lower?
“No, that’s not it”

I violently, intensely go on screaming, seeking the zeal yet unable to complete the deception

My fragilely unsettled, foolish self that became unstable, agonizingly bitter,
impatience, an increase in exasperation,
pursuing ideals, to confront the pain, the chaos
But it won’t disappear, won’t be born, can’t stare at the brilliance, the true form in shadow

Ah, to the extent that it’s vexing
Ah, yearning, yearning

Why do I try to taint everything for the sake of rasping repentance?
“No, that’s not it”
Endlessly continuing to scream into the distance